Here Be Monsters
by The Lady Frost
Summary: He had a picture of her once. He hired a baby to be a hero. He wanted to build an empire with a legacy. She didn't ask to be a hero. She didn't ask to be born into horror. But his baby is about to discover an empire can't run without a queen. (Rebecca inherits a kingdom she never imagined. And the world stops at nothing to see her fail.) Rebecca, Krauser, Leon, Wesker.
1. Rebecca's Lament

**A/N: **_Inspired by evolution-500's **Heir to the Throne.**_

* * *

**Here Be Monsters**

* * *

**Part One:**

**The Devil's Legacy**

* * *

**Chapter 1: **

**Rebecca's Lament**

* * *

**1998**

* * *

A curl of smoke snaked around an aquiline nose topped by a perfect face and two very blue eyes. "Leave it exactly as I've written."

The man in the suit shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. There was something in that direct gaze that left you simultaneously terrified that you felt elated for the individual attention. He nodded brusquely and suggested, "Should I alert the recipient to it's location?"

"...no. Leave it _exactly _as I've written."

The lawyer nodded again and typed up the final piece of the will. He offered it to the man in black sitting at the desk before him. Blue eyes perused the copy, brow quirked, lips pursed. Finally, the blonde nodded and offered it back, "Follow the letter of the first part to imparting the knowledge to her. Do you understand? No one else. It is to be handed _directly _to the girl."

The lawyer bobbed his head sharply, "Yes, sir. Of course, sir. Should I include a personal note?"

The blonde considered this and returned, "...tell her the answers she seeks can be found when the music stops."

The lawyer worried his lip and didn't ask the obvious explanation of that cryptic remark. He simply tucked all the papers into a file, secured them inside of a case with a lock, and offered it to the other man to impress his fingerprint. Bio-metrics would protect the case from anyone without the right DNA. It was encoded with the highest level of security available.

It seemed, honestly, a little unnecessary for a simple will and execution of estate, but he'd had more eccentric clients in his time than this man. When you worked with criminals and those of ill repute, you gained a little knowledge of the weird and unusual. The man in question wasn't even the oddest duck to ever grace his doorstep.

He rose now and the lawyer kept the case. As he moved for the door, the lawyer confirmed, "I will have it secured as you instructed."

"Good." The blonde hesitated and finally finished, "Tell her to look for her truth."

"Her truth?"

"She'll know what I mean."

The door clicked shut.

An odd man, mused the lawyer, but the rich and eccentric often were.

He set the case on the floor and forgot about it.

He had no way of knowing that the fate of the world was written on nothing more than twenty six pages.

* * *

**2009**

* * *

Her hands were shaking on the glass she lifted to her mouth. This was it. It was her moment. It was her final chance to prove she was more than a lab rat or a medic or a second string survivor.

It was her chance to _shine._

She was terrified. She wasn't some rabbit! She wasn't going to run or wait for someone to save her or hide out in the shadows. She was a fighter! She was tough! She was strong and capable and determined!

She could handle anything!

The voice of her professor announced her as their guest lecturer. Her heart tumbled into her tummy and made her dizzy. She was about to vomit and make a liar out of all her healthy affirmations.

Instead, she channeled bravery and stepped out into the hot spotlight.

Her file touched the podium and her mind pictured all of the people in the audience in their underwear. It helped, as much as it was a crutch, and made it easier to start speaking. She did, her voice squeaky but determined, "Bioterrorism is a global threat."

She clicked and behind her the screen aroused with a terrible display of a village over run with the T-Virus - Harvardville: the site of a detrimental terror attack that had ended nearly fifteen thousand people.

She spoke about the lack of a vaccination for them. She spoke about politics preventing on site emergency distribution of the vaccine. She spoke about the need to be able to provide not just a preventative, but a cure. She referenced Curtis Miller - a man who'd used the death of many as a means to propel him to attempt to steal a G-Virus sample and make those responsible pay. An activist turned zealot, she told her captive audience, who'd later injected himself as a means of bringing the truth to the world.

She informed them, "He slaughtered nearly forty troops during the ensuing battle. No one, you see, was educated on how to fight a G-specimen."

A voice piped in, "No one?"

"No one. It was the collapse of the facility that fortuitously facilitated his demise. Otherwise? He'd have walked out and been among us even now. Soldiers aren't trained, you understand, for battles against bio organic weapons."

Squinting into the bright light, Rebecca returned, "The Golgotha Virus was said to have been eradicated with the fall of Raccoon City. The only living specimen died with William Birkin, but speculation provides that several other samples may have escaped before sanitation. These were pedaled, it seems, on the black market by arms dealers looking for viral weaponry."

A voice sounded again, "Any way to track the purchases?"

Rebecca shook her head, "That's already been handled on a SOCOM level. It's not what I'm here to talk about. I'm here to talk about the need for exposure in training for bio organic weapons...or B.O.W.S."

"...is there no one whose fought one and survived?"

Rebecca cleared her throat, "Few, but enough that they've done what they can. The Bio Security and Assessment Alliance, or the BSAA, and the sub division of USSTRATCOM work in tandem to attempt to corral and prevent outbreaks. Combined with efforts by relief organizations like TerraSave, there's some movement on the front of helping _after _exposure...but we need to stop it on the front line. We need to vaccinate, educate, and inoculate herds of humans to avoid outbreaks."

There was a murmuring in the crowd as Rebecca went into talking about vaccines and the production of a cure. She showed DNA strands and data, she went over the outlying factors of exposures limited by amputation and the spread of the virus from airborne to inhalation to direct contact. She talked about the use of personal protection equipment when handling samples and the rare possibility of a less than one percent immunity.

"With all the good fortune in the world, we still know we can't stop it in countries that can't even inoculate against Tetanus let alone T-Virus. So we have to begin to work together to train men to fight in a post exposure situation. Chris Redfield with the BSAA organizes training sessions for those looking to join the fight. He does what he can, but we need more. We need more men, more heavily trained combatants, and we need them now. If we can inoculate them, we can then teach them to survive. It's a simple truth that a specimen carrying T or G in their blood is mutated to possess strength that is well beyond human limitations."

A murmur of the crowd again and someone called, "You saying you want us to fight...what? _Monsters? _You want me to pick up a gun and go toe to toe with something like _that?"_

Birkin's G form was on the screen behind her now. Rebecca, aware she was losing the crowd now to fear, called back, "It's-I can't...it's not nearly this bad. Most specimens are simply necrotic human corpses amplified by simple response mechanisms in the brain."

Another person bellowed, "...wait..._what? _You saying they're _zombies!?"_

Jesus.

She was floundering here. She wasn't handling this at all. She was a goddamn scientist, not a public speaker! Rebecca returned, "They're slow! They're stupid! They're easily contained and eliminated! Avoiding their bite is just a matter of disabling the brain!"

"You want us to fist fight zombies!?"

"It-it's easier than it sounds!" Her voice squeaked.

Someone shouted, "You crazy lady?! You want me to try to get close enough to shank a drooling dead guy in the brain!?"

Rebecca started to answer and a voice called out, "Nope. We want you to shoot them in the goddamn head."

Rebecca shielded her eyes as the crowd parted to allow the person crossing to the stage. She waited, eyes wide, as Leon Kennedy leaped onto the stage to join her. She'd never met him, of course, but you didn't swing a syringe in their business without seeing his face on reports. She'd lied apparently, there was someone who'd fought G Specimens and survived. It was him and Claire Redfield.

Claire didn't battle anymore, but Kennedy did. He was in the thick of it. He was the poster boy for bio warfare.

When Rebecca went to greet him, he laid a hand on her shoulder and made her fall silent as he addressed the crowd. "By the way you're all bustling, I know you know who I am but for the record I'm Leon S. Kennedy. I'm the only man on Earth whose trained to fight G-Specimens in a single person combat situation. They sent me to back up Dr. Chambers on her education and request for participants in a new program designed to prepare agents for battle against things bigger than a man."

A voice requested, "You gonna show us how to kill shit that can rip our heads off?"

Leon laughed, lightly, "Absolutely. You think I stand there and trade blows with the damn thing?"

Rebecca started to speak and he squeezed her shoulder. Right. Stay silent. That was the best course here. Leon added, "The training starts on how to properly handle firearms. It's about what rounds you use and what moves you make. First we let Dr. Chambers inoculate you, then we teach you how to fight back. You want proof?"

He moved over and spoke quietly to the man in the shadows. The screen behind her lit up as he remarked, "This is video footage collected from the security cameras within the hive where Frederic Downing was secretly preparing the G-Virus for sale. As you can see, Curtis Miller mutated into a G-Variant quickly and slaughtered the surrounding men who were ill prepared."

Rebecca, like the rest of the world, watched the video footage reveal the wonderfully entertaining battle between man and monster that ensued. He was, without a shadow of a doubt, a well oiled machine. He leaped and rolled, fired, fell and came up swinging. He was beautiful somehow, like a war machine in a dance with death. She watched him tumble and catch the girl who fell beside him.

He spoke, the words lost in the footage, and fired a single bullet to spare the woman whom held onto him for dear life.

The room was silent as it finished. He hadn't even watched it. He was too busy going through papers on the podium where Rebecca had lectured. She turned back to look at him and finally he filled the hall with one more statement, "...that's how you survive. I can teach you the moves, I can't teach you the drive, but if you have it...the rest of it is just about determination."

He was a helluva motivational speaker, she had to give him the credit for it. The video, the nearly arrogant determination, the sheer belief - it radiated off him in a wave that made you want to follow him. He was a natural born leader.

There was a clamoring of sound. The people were rising to speak with him. Rebecca gathered her graphs and charts and files. Pausing, she glanced at his profile and wondered, "...at the end...when she was trying to open her hand to fall...you wouldn't let her."

Surprised, Leon glanced up from the file he was reading. They locked eyes and Rebecca queried, "...you said something to her...what did you say to make her grab your hand in return?"

His eyes volleyed across her face and he leaned in and confided, "...if you don't try to save one life, you won't save any."

Her belly seized a little, amusing her, and reminding her it was a perfectly normal reaction to a handsome man this close. Of course she was smitten with him. He was designed to make you yearn a little. He was tall, muscular, dressed beautifully in a red silk shirt and black tie over black slacks and boots. He was missing the jacket to go with the rest of the ensemble, but he didn't need it. He somehow blended bad ass and bad ass fashion in a way that made her wonder what he'd been before he'd decided to become a cop in a dirty old city.

She had the strangest urge to touch the sleeve of his shirt and see if it was soft. Amused, she told him, "Is it the face or the facts that has the recruits lining up, I wonder?"

His mouth twitched. He tilted his head. Finally, he winked at her and mused, "...the arrogant part of me wants to say a bit of both."

Rebecca laughed and gathered the rest of her files, "Well, thank you for covering for me. I was pretty sure I was dead in the water there."

"Nah. You just needed somebody to toss you a hand down."

Impressed by the clever repartee, she agreed, "I can't argue with that...after all...you saved my life up here in a way, didn't you? And if you can't save one..."

He laughed. It was nice to hear. He'd been charming and sorta harmlessly handsome before. The laugh was good. It was laced with some kind of layer of real that reminded you he wasn't a model on a magazine cover. It put a dimple to the right of his mouth above that adorable cleft chin he was rocking.

The stage was rapidly filling with eager recruits as Rebecca moved away and remarked, "...it was nice to meet you, Mr. Kennedy. Maybe I can return the favor some time."

Leon watched her go, mouth twitching with amusement. She was more than a cute little lab mouse, that much was clear. She was quick witted under that facade of fearful introvert. He had to admit, he enjoyed the back and forth.

He gave a quiet thanks for the sight of her sweet little butt in that skirt as she left the stage too. He might be a hero, but he wasn't a blind one. Amused, he laughed, "...women."

What would he do without them?

* * *

Rebecca was just finishing up filing away her notes on a lecture she'd attended when the knock on her room door drew her toward it. She glanced through the peep hole to find a small sweaty man holding a case there waiting. He kept nervously glancing up and down the hallway. He looks scared and pale. There was a ridge of shadows under his eyes that indicated lack of sleep.

Rebecca mused, "...can I help you?"

He jumped like she'd slapped him and stammered, "R-R-Rebecca Cham-b-bers?"

"...maybe."

Clearing his throat, the man whispered dramatically, "I need to come in please. I-I have...I need to give you this."

She tilted her head, "What is it?"

"...it's...it's from your father's estate."

Her father? He'd died in Iraq during the war or something. Why was she just now getting something from his estate?

"Just leave it out there. I'll get it later."

She wasn't sure why, but this guy made her nervous as hell.

"...p-please? Please. I need to give it you directly."

Sighing, Rebecca opened the door and the man shoved the briefcase in his hand at her. "...ss-seek your truth. The answers can be found when the music stops."

"...wait...what?"

She took the case and the man backed up. He shook his head, "I'm done. I'm so done. Never again, ya know? I'm so done. Seek your truth. The answers can be f-"

The gun went off and sounded like thunder in the hallway. The man's head exploded all over the wall behind him. Rebecca shouted in fear and slammed her door. She backed up, carrying the case he'd given her into the bathroom. She scrambled in her sleeping pants and t-shirt through her suitcase as footsteps echoed beyond her locked room door.

There was a grumble of voices. There was a knock on the door and a rather polite, "...give it to me, and I don't have to kill you."

Jesus.

What was in this case!?

What had her father done!?

Rebecca grabbed the dissembled pistol at the bottom of her suitcase. She scrambled to assemble it, whimpering a little when the voice taunted, "...little pig, little pig...let me _in."_

Her heart hammered hard, rushing in and out into her lungs and making her light headed. She shoved the magazine into the gun and jerked the slide back, scrambling on her butt back to the bathroom as the door splintered and burst apart from a heavy round. Mewling with fear, she kicked the door shut to the bathroom and shoved over the shelf beside it with towels on it. Her hand shut off all the lights and blinded herself. She scrambled into the tub and squatted below chest level, clutching the case to her and the gun aimed at the door.

The voice called, "Come on, cookie, don't make me hurt you. You're such a sweet little thing...let's have the case and end this nice and quick."

There was a tap, tap, tapping on her bathroom door and the voice added, "I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house down, little piggy. Nobody wants that, do we?"

There was a crunch as he must have put his boot to the door and his voice turned mean, "Open this goddamn door, you _bitch!"_

He blew a hole through the door with some enormous gun he had, leaving a hole and his glaring blue eye behind to try to find her in the dark bathroom.

With her one moment of courage, Rebecca shouted back, "No..._fuck you!"_

The second she saw the whites of those eyes in the dark, she taunted, "...what big eyes you have..." And Rebecca fired. Scared or not, she still knew how to handle a gun. She'd learned that as a child. She'd kept up on it as an adult. In her business, you never knew when you might need to blow something away.

She heard him roar. She heard him rear back and kick the door again. He shouted, "I'm gonna rip out your fucking throat!"

She fired twice more into the hole in answer. He kicked the door so hard it splintered around the base and Rebecca fired again. His screech of rage echoed everywhere. The ruined door finally was finally kicked hard enough to scatter the shelf baring it and smack the wall on ravaged hinges. She fired once more, heard it hit the man somewhere on his _massive _form, and she ducked under his reaching hands, came up fast, and smashed the case in her hands in his face.

As he reared, Rebecca shot him in the groin, shoved him in the belly, and sent him careering into the tub where she'd been. As he went over, she went out, racing out of the hotel room to the tune of his roaring rage. His shout echoed, "How fast can you run, little piggy? Go find your fucking house of sticks!"

Rebecca hit the emergency stairwell and went down. She whimpered, adrenaline shoving her into a speed like an Olympic athlete, she hit the main floor and shoved at the door. Locked. It was locked. She was trapped in this stairwell by door that needed a key.

She heard the door on the third floor thrown open and the pound of is pursuit. Terrified, Rebecca tucked into the alcove below the stairs and hunkered down. She heard him hit the second floor and taunt, "Little pig, little pig...where did you hide? Did you run out this door?"

He kicked open the second floor door and the sound of his pursuit went silent. The second he was gone, she raced up to the first floor and out the door there into a naked hallway. She ran for it, barefoot and flying. Whatever in this case, was worth killing for. That alone told her she was going to do everything she could to protect it.

She hit the lobby and ran for the main exit doors. On the second floor balcony, a shout made her run faster, "LITTLE PIGGY! You headed to Grandma's house!?"

A vase filled with a beautiful Japanese maple erupted in a spray of shattered porcelain beside her. She screamed, skidding on the slick floor, and felt the sting of her foot being cut from the fall out. People shouted in fear and scattered as she ran for the doors.

She thought, he wasn't afraid to kill innocent people either, as a poor man in a suit took a bullet meant for her as he had the misfortune of herding her toward the doors and being in the back. He went down, he took Rebecca with him by falling forward onto her, and she was trapped beneath his bulk and the panicking feet of over a dozen people. She thought - _I'm gonna be road kill in a minute here._

The red dot from the evil man's gun bobbed around on her face. Rebecca whimpered madly, trying like hell to get loose of the body atop her. She shoved at his shoulder and a bullet struck, splattering her in blood as it went into the dead man's back and out his front to hit the floor an inch beside her waist. It was a warning shot, clearly. Why not just kill her and be done with it?

Why did he want her alive?

She grabbed for her gun and aimed and the gun was, literally, shot out of her hand. The bullet grazed her wrist and hurt like hell, Rebecca lost her grip and the body atop her was joined by another as the gun went off and a girl was thrown down on the pile. He was killing civilians now to pin her down. He was trying to trap her, not kill her.

She was going to end up his prisoner instead of his victim.

Terror took on new meaning as another body fell across her already growing pile. She gasped madly, trying to breathe in the crush of it. Her hands shoved trying desperately to free herself.

And the red light bobbed on her chest instead.

She was still trying to get away when he called, "I warned you, bitch...this is why women are only good for fucking."

She was terrified he'd take her and torture her for revenge. She would rather die than fall into his hands. She wanted to shout something clever, instead she just started to cry.

She was going to die, not like a brave heroine in a good book, nope...she was going to die a coward.

Rebecca Chambers - victim.

She wished, just once, she could be Leon Kennedy instead.


	2. The Girl with Green Eyes

**A/N: **_Capcom relies heavily on homages to other series. They spend a good portion of time playing mirror to Aliens. For me, I'm throwing this one at Terminator. Suffice to say, these two heroes have a battle on their hands._

* * *

**Here Be Monsters**

* * *

**Part One:**

**The Devil's Legacy**

* * *

**Chapter 2: **

**The Girl with Green Eyes**

* * *

She could hear the footsteps as he landed. He, literally, leaped over the railing and plummeted to the ground to pursue her. It wasn't possible, it wasn't probably, the likelihood of suviving that steep of a fall was simply not logical...but there he was. She could see him simply walking through bodies as he came toward her. He grabbed a girl who was attempting to flee, dragged her back to his front and secured her there with a hand around her jaw to coo, "See that bitch on the ground? You're about to join her. Make me laugh and cry out for help."

The girl in his arms did just that. She struggled, blue eyes streaming with tears, small hands striking at her captor. Rebecca, scrambling to free herself beneath the pile of bodies that bound her, shouted, "PLEASE! Leave her alone! I'll do whatever you want!"

Krauser tilted his head and seemed surprised, "...for a girl you've never met?"

Rebecca called back, "Yes! Just let her go!"

Krauser glanced at the girl in the suit in his arms. Pretty thing, he thought with amusement, the thin cardio body type he might have enjoyed fucking when he was younger and more interested in women than power. He considered things and finally shrugged, "Nah. Women are nothing but trouble."

He grabbed her chin and lifted her against his chest. The woman screamed wildly, legs kicking, his left hand gripped her hair to break her neck and the boom of a heavy firearm sounded. The bullet missed the girl and hit his neck. Blood sprayed in a wet red splatter.

Krauser gagged and dropped the girl who just took off. She slid to grab Rebecca's hand and tug roughly, trying to help free her. It was brave, and stupid, and completely human natured. Rebecca warned her, "GO! Please! RUN!"

Krauser staggered and took another bullet to the chest. It threw him over a desk behind him and put him on the floor behind it. Rebecca crawled, finally free of her cage of flesh. She grabbed for the case and a hand came into her side view.

She was suddenly looking up at Leon Kennedy as he told her, "Come with me if you want to live."

Right. Like she'd say no? That was for braver types than her.

She took the hand.

He jerked her up and Rebecca ran for the door while he backed up after her. Krauser called from behind the desk, "You think that hand cannon of yours can finish me off? You failed once, you fucking Princess, stay and finish the job."

A taunt.

A good one.

Rebecca saw him hesitate and cautioned Leon, "...if he kills you, who will protect me?"

Damn.

He nodded and fired toward the desk to keep Krauser in cover as the bastard shouted again, "What shitty fairytale is this anyway? The Piggy and the Princess? Kennedy, you fucking girl, gonna run and hide like one now? You always were a coward."

Without missing a beat, Leon called back, "Was I? Seems like you're the one hiding, Jack. Come on out and find out what fairytale this is. I think it's the one where the ugly ass troll dies clutching his missing balls...course...that'd be hard to do since they're currently in my trophy case beside your dignity."

Rebecca grabbed his shirt and begged, "Please...you shot him...you saw...he won't die. Please. Please?"

Damnit.

He knew he was going to run with her. He knew she was right. Krauser should be dead. He'd blown a clean hole through the center of his damn throat. He shouldn't be breathing let alone taunting his adversaries into battle.

Leon grabbed Rebecca's arm, shoved her through the door, and fired three more warning shots where Krauser was crouching. They fled through the door into the street to the roar of sirens and Leon forced her into a run in her bare feet. Rebecca kept pace, ducking and turning through traffic toward the parking lot as he cautioned, "You do what I say, when I say, no questions, ok?"

Rebecca nodded as he told her, "...drive."

Surprised, she climbed in the driver's seat of his dark sedan and fired up the engine. The car roared away from the curb and she whipped it into traffic. With a smile, he warned, "Slow down there, lead foot, and just breathe."

Rebecca chuckled lightly and adjusted her speed, "...why does he want me?"

Leon said nothing.

She shook her head and asked, "Who is he?"

With a heavy sigh, Leon kept vigilant watch behind them as she drove and returned, "He used to be Jack Krauser-a man who once was a patriot and somehow became poisoned with power. I thought he was dead and gone...I should remember nothing ever stays dead in our world."

Rebecca veered onto the highway, "Where am I going?"

"Just keep driving west for now." He opened his glovebox and hit a button. The back seat made a sound and raised up to reveal a very, very big gun. As he pulled it up and brought it into his lap, Rebecca felt a roll of nerves and gratitude.

Leon Kennedy being on site for her lecture had likely literally saved her life - professional and personally and permanently.

So, she said, "...Agent Kennedy...I can't say thank you enough."

Leon laughed gently as he checked and cocked and pulled parts of the gun in his hands, "...it's Leon, Dr. Chambers. Just Leon. And don't thank me yet. Jack Krauser isn't a man who knows how to stop. Even before he...mutated...he was a man with no limits. If he wants you, he absolutely will not stop until you are dead."

"...I don't understand that." Her voice sounded small and scared and she hated it. She wanted to be Jill or Claire or anyone with more bravery than brains. Sadly, the odds of stopping a man who couldn't be killed and surviving? Those were pretty damn small.

Leon clarified, "He can't be reasoned with. He can't be bargained with. He won't feel pity or remorse or sympathy. He just has a mission. That mission is you. Why? It doesn't matter to him. He may not even know. He just knows he's supposed to get you...and kill anyone who gets in his way."

The silence stretched until she stammered, "..c-can you stop him?"

Leon gave her a considering glance and confessed, "...I don't know...with these weapons? I don't know. Let's get somewhere safe and start trying to find out the why, ok? The why doesn't matter to him, but it might be the things that let's us find out who's the power behind him here."

Rebecca nodded, turning when he gestured onto a side road. She couldn't speak. The fear made her mute for so long that he finally reached over and laid a hand on her upper back as she drove. The tension eased immediately and her white knuckles on the wheel pinked with the release of her grip. She blew out a hard breath as he soothed, "...you're not alone."

God. What was he - a mind reader?

She shook her head as her eyes sparked with tears and apologized, "...I'm sorry. I'm being stupid. I'm scared and in my pajamas and in possession of a suitcase filled with...who knows what...and some massive man is trying to kill me...I'm just-I'm angry because I'm a coward. I've always been the type who panics. Even in Raccoon City...I was just a girl who panicked. I did ok when push came to shove, but I'm no soldier, Mr. Kennedy. I'm just-"

"It's Leon." He interrupted her and squeezed one of her tense shoulders to make it relax, "It's Leon, Rebecca. Rebecca right? Or do you prefer-"

"No. Don't call me, Dr. Chambers. It's stupid. You just-I'm just Rebecca. Or B? Everybody calls me, Becs or B...or B.C. sometimes."

She was rambling, but that was ok. She was shocky and cold and scared. Talking would soothe her. So, she went on, "I remember being so excited to get the invite to Raccoon, ya know? I was FRESH out of medical school, pushed into the fast path because I'm so smart."

Leon was trying to open the case she'd been given as she rambled, "Genius, they said..." She trailed off and then piped, "You too, I hear!"

It was a squeak of sound. His brows arched. Rebecca pinked up and apologized, "...sorry. I get squeaky when I'm nervous."

Nodding, he patted her back as he answered, "...they told me I was a genius in the third grade."

Impressed, Rebecca blew out a hard breath, "Yes! Yes. Me too. Gifted, right? All your life?"

Leon nodded as he frowned at the case. What was it? Bio metrics? Not fingerprints, she'd had her hand on the damn thing and it was still locked. So what was the trigger? He confided, "All my life. Fast track, graduated at sixteen. Spent two years after that in medical school before I figured out I was never meant to be a doctor and jumped careers into law enforcement."

Surprised, Rebecca laughed, "...wow...huge downgrade there on the pay side of things. You were ok with working for peanuts?"

He shrugged and smirked, "I wanted the danger. I was made to be a hero. You didn't get the memo?"

He was so charming. She was glad he was so calm too. It helped calm her nerves. Rebecca chortled a little and shrugged, "I thought most of the stuff in your file was an exaggeration."

To which he replied, "It is. Some of it's true, most of it is embellished to make me look good."

She doubted that, but she liked how humble he was. It made him very likable. He added, "Just a guy with a gun who's good at hitting the target and helping people. Nothing special. Don't start looking at me like I'm anything but a man. I can bleed and die just like you."

Rebecca made a small sound and he winced and soothed, "Sorry...shit. I'm not saying that's gonna happen just...damnit. I'm better with guns than girls, sweetheart. I'm sorry."

Mollified by his embarrassment, Rebecca nodded, "I know. I'm just being stupid."

"Not stupid; scared." He touched her arm and reiterated, "You'd be stupid _not _to be scared, Rebecca. Don't beat yourself up."

She muttered, "He'll do that for me."

Leon, without waiting, returned, "He'll have to get through me first." She wasn't sure why, but that confidence was reassuring. After a moment, he added, "Turn in here."

The police precinct looked secure and safe. Her heart hitched with hope. Maybe they'd put her in protective custody and spare her having to ever see that monster again. She glanced at the case on the floor by Leon's foot.

What was in it worth killing for?

Maybe she'd get some answers when she was safe.

* * *

After too long trying to open the case and too many hours of trying to deal with the drama of police and precedent and procedure, she ended up trying to sleep on the small couch in the Chief's office. Luckily, _this _chief wasn't a taxidermy obsessed pervert with a penchant for exotic trophies. Rebecca dozed with the case tucked up under the couch beneath her.

She slipped back and forth from dreams to tossing and turning. She'd never been like the rest of the S.T.A.R.S. She didn't bounce when things went postal like that. She kept picturing the faces of the dead bodies atop her. She kept thinking of their families and how they'd been people before he'd made them meat sacks to hold her down.

What kind of a monster was he?

He was the kind who used humans as cannon fodder. He was the kind who slaughtered innocents in droves to get his mission completed. He wasn't a monster because he couldn't die; he was a monster because he couldn't _care. _She didn't know how Leon planned to fight him, but he'd need a bigger weapon than a gun. Sadly, she didn't think the police station kept rocket launchers in their armory.

She was almost asleep when the shouting started. The jolt of fear had her jumping up as flashes of light turned the foggy glass window of the office bright like fireworks beyond it. Her hear hammering, Rebecca grabbed the case beneath the couch and hurried under the desk. She huddled, heart hammering, one hand clamoring over the top of the desk for a weapon. The scissors joined her in her hiding spot.

He'd found her.

She wasn't sure how she knew that was drama beyond the door, but somehow? He'd found her here. He was attacking a whole freaking police station to get her. Her chest tightened with misery and sympathy for those trying desperately to protect her.

She was just _one woman. She wasn't worth all the bravery!_

She nearly found the courage to crawl out and bravely offer herself up to save the rest of them when the door was thrown wide open against the far wall. Her hands clutched the case, she grabbed the scissors tightly in her grip. There was a rustle of sound and a set of boots appeared beside the desk.

Rebecca tightened her grip, waited, and legs were joined by a lowering torso. She yipped and swiped, and nearly stabbed Leon Kennedy in the face.

He caught the scissors and tugged her out of her spot instead, stealthily avoiding losing an eye. She almost apologized when he commanded, "If we get separated, you head straight down the back stairs to the pit. Cross the bullpen and go out the far door. There's the motor pool out there. You know how to hot wire?"

Her mouth was dry as she simply nodded.

"Yeah. S.T.A.R.S. gave you some skills at least. Good." He tugged a pistol from his back and pushed it into her hands, "Run. Don't look back. Don't stop. Don't try to save any one. Do you hear me?"

"...w-w-what about you? Should I-?"

He shook his head no as screaming and gunfire filled the room around them. Rebecca whimpered with fear as he told her, "I will find you. Do you hear me? If I lose you, I will find you. Trust me...and _go!"_

He shoved her toward the back door of the office. Rebecca ran for it, case clutched in one hand, gun in the other. She heard the door get ripped clear off the hinges and whined with fear. She heard the sounds of guns and fighting. A thump, a crash, a roar of rage. Her feet practically flew over the ground as the scent of fire joined the fray. The wall beside her _whooshed _as it lit from some fool trying out a flame thrower.

Her hands struck the door and down the stairs she went. She didn't stop. She ran. She heard the chatter of machine gun fire and kept on racing.

She was nearly to the bottom when there was a clatter, a scream, and a clunk of a body that fell and hit the railing of the stairs on every level. Her hands grabbed for the knob in horror as the body struck the floor behind her. She shoved the door open, it caught on the leg of the deceased, and she kicked the leg, whimpering. She didn't want to look at the face.

She didn't want to know who it was. If it was Leon, she was dead where she stood anyway, but she'd do what he commanded. She'd keep running. She jerked open the door as a bullet struck it beside her face.

With a shout, she shoved into the bullpen and just barreled forward. It was full of chaos and angry cops. They were strapping on gear and grabbing weapons. Rebecca tore across the pretty tiled floor toward the door marked POOL. Shoving it open, she hit the cold air and grabbed wildly for the first car she came to.

Locked.

Terrified, she turned around to head back for some keys and the door was thrown wide. She threw herself down on the ground and ducked, using the cars as cover as the big body of Jack Krauser emerged into the night. Terrified, she listened to him call out, "Fee fi fo fum...I smell the blood of the dead and dumb."

Jesus.

Her hands grabbed for door handles as she ducked and slid as quietly as possible through all the cars. She heard him pace and he warned, "He's dead you know...you heard him hit...I _SAW _you pause and consider checking. He was always such a fucking girl. He died like one...crying and begging."

Rebecca shook her head and tugged. The door creaked and opened on an old Volkswagen station wagon. She climbed half into the seat and started tugging on the wires near the dash. She heard him kick a car and shout, "PIGGY! You better come on out...you know I don't do well when piggies try to hide from me! I want me some _bacon!"_

The car made a spark as she twisted wires and touched two more. It chugged and fired up with a _roar _that scared her. Rebecca clamored into the seat as she heard him start running, she grabbed the wheel and stomped the gas. It shot forward like a rocket as Krauser laughed happily, "PIGGY!"

He started to lift his weapon, Rebecca stamped the gas harder. There was a whistle from the doorway and it caused Krauser to turn his head before he took a bullet to the side of it. It was incredible to watch. The bullet went in, the bullet came out the other side of his head and blasted brain matter everywhere. He staggered, the car struck him full force and tossed him onto the hood and up over the damn thing, and Rebecca sped straight on by. She heard his body hit the ground, Leon joined her in the passenger seat and he instructed, "...floor it."

She did, the tires squealing as they shot out onto the road. Her voice broke as she asked, "...is...is he-is...?"

"Dead? Hell no. He's regenerating at a rate I've never seen. I blasted half his fucking face off back there and he just kept coming." Leon reloaded his Magnum and holstered it, opting for the shotgun he carried over his back instead. He jerked a round into the chamber and advised, "Head west toward the highway."

Rebecca nodded, eyes bright with tears, "Those people..."

"Don't. Don't do that. Don't even take a minute to mourn it. Not now...you hear me?" He surprised her as he took her right hand and laid it flat on his chest. The heavy thump of his heart somehow comforted her as he told her, "I'm ok. You're ok. That's all we can do right now? Alright? Forward, Rebecca. We can't go back."

Right.

He was right.

She gunned the engine and nodded, gripping the wheel again. He laid her pistol in the center console beside them. He kept the shotgun on his lap and wondered, "...whatever is in that case...we need it before they send back up for that stupid fuck."

Rebecca nodded and whispered, "...I-I may know someone who can help us."

Leon glanced at her and invited, "...you trust him?"

She nodded, "I've known him all my wife. We worked together for awhile at the BSAA before I left for private research. His name is Quint Ketcham. He's the smartest guy I know."

Leon chuckled and she whispered, "...no offense."

"None taken, sweetheart. So long as he helps us, he can keep the title. We need to ditch this car. Krauser knows it, he's looking for it. Turn into this parking garage up here and kill the lights."

Rebecca did so, turning the old wagon into a spot beside a red Camry. Leon slid out of the seat and shifted over the break the back window. There was no alarm as he reached through and opened the drivers door. Rebecca joined him in the back seat and laid down like he instructed as he returned them to the road.

There was a long moment of silence as he drove. She curled away to stare at the back of the seat. After some time had passed, he engaged her in conversation, "...this isn't your fault, Rebecca."

She said nothing.

Leon rolled the car to the side of the road and under the over hang of a bridge. The sounds of traffic joined them as he rotated in the seat and touched her arm, "...hey...look at me."

Trembling with grief, Rebecca shook her head no. He sighed and told her, "You start taking responsibility for every life lost like this, you'll end up at the wrong end of a bottle...trust me..._I know."_

Rebecca finally rolled over to face him. She studied his kind and empathetic face and whispered, "...I'm not worth it. All those people...I'm not worth it."

Leon smiled sadly and remarked, "Yes, you are, Rebecca...but you're not killing them. You're not. I need you to stay with me here. I can't have you falling apart. Not yet...not until we know what's in that damn case. Can you? Can you do this?"

She said nothing so he added, "It's ok to say no..but no or not...you have to try."

So, she whispered, "I got lucky in Raccoon City...I had Billy...I had Chris...I don't think I can do this alone."

Face set, eyes hard, he informed her, "You're not alone, kid...you've got _me. _I won't let anything happen to you, Rebecca. I swear to god. Trust me...I won't let you down."

After a moment of watching each other, she finally nodded. He did too. He turned back to the road and started driving. She laid in the seat and mourned. She wanted to be so brave.

She was trying.

She was really trying to be Claire.

She was trying to be tough.

She was just a girl with green eyes. She wasn't a fighter! She was a scientist, not a super hero! She didn't know how to fight something that couldn't die. She'd survived the tyrants in Raccoon because Redfield and Cohen had taken the hits. She wasn't brave!

She'd made it this far.

He wouldn't let her doubt herself. She'd made it this far. She had to believe in herself and in him to survive. She picked up the case and shook it. It remained steadfastly locked.

Annoyed, she shouted, "Open sesame!"

She tried to pick the lock but it wasn't the type with a keyhole.

Frowning, she told it, "Moonlight Sonata."

In the front seat, Leon laughed, "...try singing it."

And she answered, "I'm tone deaf."

To her surprise, he wasn't. He hummed it beautifully, for all the good it did. After a moment, Rebecca sighed, "It's probably got a finger in it. The finger of a 9th century warlord."

Chuckling, he wondered, "Pretty specific there."

Rebecca smiled, "...bad movie I saw once. Does it do any good to ask about who he might be working for?"

Leon shrugged and returned, "Could be anyone...I'm gonna need a safe place to start digging. I'd found some ties between him and a man named Glenn Arias just before he Schwarzeneggered the station back there, but not enough to really piece the puzzle together."

Rebecca nodded and started to do a "get to the choppa" impersonation when there was a whine of sound. She turned her head to herself face to face with motorcycle. It came right for them and Leon snapped, "Get down!"

She got down, he swerved the wheel, and the car side swiped the motorcycle. It squealed on its tires, the window exploded from gunfire, and Rebecca huddled on the floorboard with her hands over the back of her head. She felt the car jerk, spin, and heard it smack the motorcycle with the rear end. Metal screamed, Leon's shotgun went off twice, and there was a thump as they ran over something.

The car shot off, squealing wildly, and he called out, "He's down! But we're outta time! How far?!"

"...too far." She whispered it, hunkered down and terrified. How long could they hold out against something that could be run over, shot, and stabbed without dying?

He was worse than a tyrant...he was a _terminator. _


	3. Sarah Conner

**A/N: **_Capcom relies heavily on homages to other series. They spend a good portion of time playing mirror to Aliens. For me, I'm throwing this one at Terminator. Suffice to say, these two heroes have a battle on their hands._

* * *

**Here Be Monsters**

* * *

**Part One:**

**The Devil's Legacy**

* * *

**Chapter 3:**

**Sarah Conner**

* * *

The car squealed around a turn so fast that Leon cautioned, "...easy...easy." She'd taken over driving so he could operate his phone and search for answers while simultaneously assuming a guard dog position in the passenger seat.

Easy he said. Take it easy.

She wanted to kick him really hard for the suggestion.

Right.

Easy.

Was any of this easy?!

Angry now, Rebecca snapped, "Do I look like the type who takes it easy? I look like a girl whose got it all together here? I'm being chased by a psycho because of some goddamn suitcase that some dude handed me...I didn't ask for this! Ok!? And I don't want it!"

Leon was watching her with a calm expression. She muttered angrily, jerking on the wheel until he inquired, "...feel better?"

She said nothing.

He added, "Did that help at all?"

She shook her head, gnawing on her lower lip. He patted her knee and told her, "Get mad if you want, kiddo. It won't do any damn good, but go ahead and get it out. Mad is better than scared anyway, right? Channel that anger. Rage against the machine. Piss and moan and fight. That's how you keep alive. It's how you keep going."

Rebecca shook her head again, steering through the darkness. "Stop talking."

He looked amused in her peripheral vision. "...seriously?"

She nodded, turning down a side road, "Yeah. Stop talking. You're making it worse. I don't need a rousing fight song here either, Kennedy. Ok? Just let me fester and leave me alone."

He did just that.

She liked that about him. He seemed happy to take commands when they suited him. She tried to stop the anger when it descended into tears. She really, really did, but here they came anyway. They leaked out of her eyes.

He said nothing. He didn't even look over. He let her cry silently and said nothing.

He was a good man.

She was going to get him killed because of it.

Rebecca hunkered a little in the seat wanting, not for the first time, to be anyone but herself. She wanted to be bigger, braver, more bad ass and better equipped to take on bad guys. She wanted to be Jill or Claire or Wonder Woman...or what? What?

Sarah Conner. She wanted to be Sarah Conner. That woman fought machines and survived! After a moment of thinking of it, Rebecca told Leon, "...I'm Sarah Conner."

Surprised, he glanced up from his phone. She was circling the car to park outside of a run down warehouse in the middle of a dark alley. He furrowed his brow as she went on, "I am. I'm Sarah Conner. Someone wants me dead...someone who won't die...it's surreal."

She swung the car into a quiet spot on the street, killed the lights, and killed the engine. The tick seemed loud in the silence. Leon was watching her in the muted darkness. She wondered, "...you gonna die on me like Reese?"

He flashed a smile that looked white in the murky shadow, "...not today, kid. I'm not some rookie living in mortal fear anymore, Rebecca. I know what I'm doing. You don't need to worry about being Sarah Conner, because I'm already a bad ass. It's ok to be afraid. It's ok to be worried about Krauser. You should be, he's scary. He's terrifying when you don't know how to handle him, but that's what we're doing here right? We're here to handle him. So..."

He put his hand out an waited. She twitched her mouth as he invited again, "...come with me if you want to live."

She smiled and shook her head, "...you're a clever guy."

"I have my moments."

She took his hand and he patted the top of hers with the other one. "...now let's go find out how to kick the ass of a monster who won't die."

She wasn't sure why, but it was desperately easy to believe in him.

* * *

Quint, affectionately called "Q" by those who knew him well, was a man with a code name in his business that might have offended other men. It was Jackass, because he was always braying about something and often didn't have the ass to back it up. In this case, a bragging Q was a good one.

He was currently digging around in his computer like a man possesed. His set up was something that any computer nerd would envy. It was monitors and lights and flickering machines in a cold room. He was slapping keys and rolling between monitors to check data.

He was madly in love with Rebecca and she was basically exploiting that love to get answers here, but she didn't feel bad. Q knew where their relationship stood. They had one date- a bad one- and ended things with a reluctant friendship. He was tenacious about wanting her back, of course, but not obnoxious. His lack of charming was his most charming asset.

He was a man with little in the way of looks. His big ears and balding head beneath big glasses and a sad attempt at beard under a hooked nose left little in the way of leers or lady appreciation, but the brain inside that balding head was brilliant. His most attractive feature was his genius.

He clicked his tongue, rolled his wheels, and worked tirelessly to track Krauser. When he got a moment to sip coffee, he mused, "...why you look like a fucking model man?"

Leon, amused, was leaning on the wall watching him work. He tilted his head, "Do I?"

Q scoffed, "Come on...you know you look like an actor in a bad spy movie. You James Bond over there and me the ugly sidekick. I'm, literally, the Q to your 007."

Leon chuckled lightly, "What you look like is irrelevant when you're ass deep in monsters."

Q scoffed again and rolled around to tap keys, "I bet the pussy that face gets you makes up for the risk to your ass though."

Rebecca winced and murmured, "...sorry. He's-"

Leon winked at her, "Harmless. He's harmless."

Q added, "Sadly, I'm so harmless girls just ignore me." He waited, rolled his neck and remarked, "If I save you, can I get another chance?"

Rebecca snorted. Leon smirked and offered, "...you should say yes. Guy is saving your life a little here."

She gave Leon a look and remarked, "...so did you. You want a date too?"

Q made a "pfft" sound, "There goes my shot. You think I can compete with the walking wet dream over there? Girls probably cream their panties just catching a glimpse of that ridiculous hair."

Leon couldn't stop the laugh. Rebecca flushed with embarrassment, "...again. Sorry."

"Hey, if he's as good as you said, he can make all the jokes he wants."

Q returned, carelessly, "I'm better...at all things." He leered and cooed, "I could show you sometime, B. I wasn't graced with the beauty...but I was graced with the beast...if you catch my drift."

Rebecca rolled her eyes. Leon chortled. Q told them, "...meaning I have a huge dong."

That was it. That was all it took. Leon burst into laughter. Rebecca got up to walk away to the bathroom and splash water on her face. She couldn't believe how bad the manners were on that man! He was filter-less. She wondered if there was any chance at all that this didn't end with her slapping his face.

And then he called, "Whoa...whoa whoa whoa...tits on a tranny...look here."

He gestured and alluded, "...see the connection here? Your guy? He's working with the syndicate."

Leon's brow furrowed. Rebecca mused, "Is that like...capital S?"

Leon answered her, "Yeah. The Syndicate has made some small waves behind the scenes for months now. We haven't been able to get a line on them, but it's clear they're working with someone on the black market for the sale of B.O.W.S. Jack was never a patriot, but a terrorist? Someone must have acquired him after I assumed he was dead and turned him completely. Can you follow the money to the financier?"

Q blew out a breath, "More blocks in my way than the chastity belt around B's panties over there, but I can try. Gonna take me some time."

Leon nodded, he glanced at Rebecca and told her, "We should work on the case and see if we can get it open. You don't know what it could possibly hold?"

Rebecca shook her head as they took up a spot on the couch. She tapped the case. Leon went to work on the lock with a couple paper clips without any lock. He frowned, rubbing the rough skin of his chin that was just starting to sprout some facial fuzz.

Without thinking, Rebecca told him, "I think you'd look cute with a little beard."

Amused, Leon arched a brow, "It looks more like a dirty face than a beard."

She smiled, "I bet it's still attractive."

From behind them, Quint hooted, "Lookie looker...buy me a hooker...I found the money man."

The lights went out.

Everyone froze in total darkness.

There was a scuffling sound beyond the door. Leon put a hand on Rebecca and she shifted soundlessly behind him. The door opened with a squeal of squeaky hinges. There was the thump of footsteps crossing the floor.

A flicker of movement in the shadows had Leon turning his gun in the darkness. He was _itching _to shoot, but the risk of hitting Quint was tantamount. He hesitated and a voice called, "...fee fi fo fum...I smell the blood of the young and dumb."

Krauser.

Leon and Rebecca backed up together in the dark. She clung to the back of his shirt as he angled them toward the door. His photographic memory was a gift in the dark. He knew where everything was like the lights were still on. He herded her carefully around the couch and toward the door.

Something brushed his hip and he knew it was Quint by the familiar smell of Old Spice and tacos. The good part about being trained like he was, was that Leon could track in the dark the same as the light. He wasn't blind here. Krauser knew that. He was just fucking with them.

When they reached the door, Leon felt Rebecca and Quint duck through first. He carefully backed up after them. Something shifted in the shadows they'd left behind and Leon fired. Just like that. No warning.

The gun sparked in the dark.

The echo of the bullet was loud.

There was a grunt and crash as Krauser was tossed backward over whatever furniture was near him. Leon turned, slamming the door in his wake, and commanded on a shout, "GO!"

The other two ran for it. Rebecca cried out, "-the case!"

And Quint bellowed, "I got it! What the hell do you think I was after when the lights went out?!"

The sound of fighting made her panic. She started to turn back and Quint dragged her on, "Come on! He can handle it!"

Leon ducked in the dark. He pivoted. He weaved. One thing was true, Krauser didn't have the agility to fight like him. He never had. Leon came up with the knife in his left hand and jabbed. He felt it hit, felt the blood, smelled the copper and spun out and away.

Jack grunted, gasping. He laughed, "You little shit! You coward! Come back here!"

Leon shot from the dark again and sent the other man into the wall. He sprang off and tackled him. It was like being hit by a buffalo. They went over the kitchen table in a clatter and hit the cabinets behind. Leon missed losing his face to the fist that flew at it. Krauser hit the floor with a roar of pain, Leon leveraged up and elbow him in the face, and he jabbed the knife in his fist into Krauser's chest.

It made a clunk sound that scared him.

All joking aside...was Krauser even human under the skin?

What the hell was he..._Wolverine?!_

Leon tucked the gun under his chin and Krauser head butted him.

It rang, his vision bisected, and someone shouted, "You piece of monkey shit!"

Quint kicked Krauser in the balls from above and behind. The other man went pale and Leon humped him off his body from beneath him. He threw him into the cabinets and Rebecca jerked him to his feet.

Quint shouted, "GO! Get to the choppa!"

He ignited the hairspray can, flipped open the light in his hands, and hit the flame with the spray. It lit Krauser up like a Christmas tree. The man squealed on the floor, tossing in flames as they backed up. He smacked into the wall, screaming, burning.

Quint taunted, "Fee fi fo fum...I smell the death of the big and dumb!"

And Leon commanded, "NOW! GO!"

They all ran for the front door.

Impressed, Rebecca kept pace with Quint as he led her through his living room and out the front door into the dark street. They herded together into his van, Quint claiming the wheel as Leon reached the van and the front door was thrown open behind them. Krauser raced out, smoldering but alive, burning but determined, Quint shouted, "What fucking freak-o-steroids is that shit!?"

And the van squealed as he gunned it away from the curb.

Krauser gave chase, Leon firing on him as he claimed a place in the back of the van. It smelled of marijuana and old tacos. What was it with the guy and tacos?

Rebecca huddled down on the floor, shaking.

Quint squealed around a turn and it tossed Leon into the wall of the van with a clang. He shouted, "S-s-sorry! Sorry! Shit man. Sorry."

Leon grunted and took back his position. He fired again, pissed about the loss of the shotgun in the house behind them. There was no time to lament it's loss sadly, as Krauser was gaining on them. Plugged full of holes from a goddamn Magnum and he was still gaining on a speeding van.

Leon shouted, "Spin the wheel full circle...NOW!"

Quint did it, no asking, no arguing. The van spun out, Rebecca shouted in fear, and it smashed into Krauser in mid spin. It threw him to the side, Leon shot him in the groin and heard him roar as they over rotated, and Leon commanded, "Now gun it!"

Quint grabbed the wheel, jerked hard, and gunned the engine. The old blue van roared in response. It shot away like a dart. Rebecca rolled across the floor, dazed from smacking hard into the door. Leon tugged her upright and settled her against the wall instead, "...you ok?"

She nodded and gave him a tremulous thumbs up. He patted her knee and took up post again watching out the window.

Quint informed them, "I got a buddy from World's of Warcraft that lives in Wombat Junction. He owns a cabin up north. What do you say we go camping?"

Leon glanced over his shoulder, "Bear Creek?"

Quint nodded, "Yep. It's big enough to work like a hideout man. And it ain't mine so the Juggernaut back there shouldn't be able to find us for a minute at least."

Leon informed him, "Take us there. No side streets. No alleys. Stay on the highway, broad sight, open and ready. I want the other cars to dissuade this fucker from getting too aggressive. Impervious or not, he can't fight the entire might of the goddamn National Guard he starts killing mass amounts of civilians on the open road man. He's escaped so far because we keep running. We need to stop running and corner his ass."

Rebecca said quietly, "What about...a trap?"

He glanced at her.

Quint piped up, "Hell yeah...a bait and switch right? We set it up so it looks like Rebecca leaves the case somewhere? Maybe we get the drop on him for a change and he ends up trapped."

Leon considered things. Like it or not, he'd inherited another person to defend and protect. No way they could risk Q by leaving him somewhere now. He was officially the third leg of their lame dog.

It was time to see if a lame dog could out run a wolf.

He told them, "Ok. First the cabin, then we get this goddamn case open. After that? We're gonna set a trap for a terminator."

Rebecca whispered, "The only way to kill him was to blow him up."

Leon nodded, "...exactly. What do you think is gonna be inside that case he wants so much?"

It wasn't much of a plan, but it was better than nothing. They just had to get somewhere safe to set it up. Hell or high water, he was going to bust open this case on the floor between them. Something in there was worth killing countless people to claim.

Krauser wasn't the only man who wouldn't stop until he had what he wanted.

Leon was now a terminator himself but his target? The truth. No matter what it took, he wasn't going to stop until he had it.


	4. A cabin in the woods

**Here Be Monsters**

* * *

**Part One:**

**The Devil's Legacy**

* * *

**Chapter 4: **

**A cabin in the woods**

* * *

_Seek your truth...the answers can be found where the music stops..._

_She feels it. She knows it. It haunts her. What does it mean? What is the truth? What is the song? Why is it in her head like a dream? Is it a dream at all?She shivers in her sleep. _

_But there's no escape._

* * *

Rebecca sighed. Her hands lifted and slid into his hair. His lips tasted like whiskey. She wanted to sip them all day long. She finally understood the addiction. She was craving more than kisses though. She wanted...more.

Her hands shifted to his belt and whipped the leather free. It made a sound like a sigh. She slid her hand down his corrugated belly and lower. Her lips sipped on his chin and down the side of his neck. His hands slid around her back and cupped her bottom.

She mewed softly and her hand wrapped right around his di-

"-awake?"

Jerking into consciousness, Rebecca nearly rapped her head on his chin as she sat up. The dark gathered around them as her eyes snapped to his face and hers flamed red in the dark. Luckily, he couldn't see it as Leon encouraged, "Sorry. You looked so peaceful. I just didn't think I could get you inside without waking you."

Rebecca shook her head, "S'ok. We made it?"

"Yep." Leon patted her arm as he slid away and opened the door of the vehicle to let her leap out. She picked up the briefcase and followed him toward the pretty little cabin. "So far, so good."

Rebecca nodded and wondered, "Quint?"

"You must have been out like a light. We left him at the friend's house in town. You barely stirred when the car stopped."

Rebecca sighed. So it was just them. Great. Perfect. She'd been having a dirty dream about him, which was embarrassing, but understandable given their situation. After all, he looked like...well...like he looked. She was scared, worried, and wanting an outlet for her feelings. A sex dream was pretty typical.

Of course, she'd have enjoyed getting to the actual sex part at least. Sighing, she stepped into the musty cabin. It smelled unused. Leon flipped on a light and set his gun on the kitchen table. He carried a bag of supplies and laid it beside the gun.

Rebecca lifted her brows as he told her, "You're about to learn how to make explosives."

She tilted her head as he invited, "Oh, yeah. Limited supplies means going old school here. Have a seat."

She laid down the briefcase and joined him at the table. He showed her how to make pipe bombs. It was so seemly, so decidedly strangely homey considering how much danger they were in. Rebecca was swift and smart. She picked up on the process on one go.

She assembled while he cooked them an easy dinner of mac and cheese and hotdogs. They ate while he cleaned his gun. He was good at talking, she realized. She knew it was to put her at ease. She appreciated the effort.

He talked about all kinds of things. He mentioned missions he'd been on. He talked about baseball. He talked about gun maintenance. He talked about growing up an only child in Philadelphia.

He was charming.

She studied his face as he cleaned his weapon and finally remarked, "...I'm not going to survive this, am I?"

Surprised, he glanced at her. "...what?"

"You can't stop him."

Their gazes held. He filled the tense silence, "I will stop him. Do you hear me?"

She nodded. He shook his head, "Answer me. Say it."

She licked her lips and whispered, "...you'll stop him."

Leon patted her wrist on the table, "Exactly. Thank you." He rose and gestured with his head, "Now come here."

She followed him into the main area of the cabin and he told her, "Time to learn how to protect yourself."

She arched her brows. "What good will it do against something like that?"

"It might save your life." He gestured at himself, "Attack me."

Rebecca winged up both brows now, "...what?"

"Come at me. Come on." He waited, arms spread. She hesitated, shrugged, and ran at him. He caught her, easily, flipped her sideways in his arms and tossed her on the bed. Rebecca bounced, slid to the floor, and he instructed, "Sometimes the best defense is momentum. He comes running at you, you can do this...come at me again."

She came at him, running, and he rolled to his back, stuck a foot in her belly, and launched her up in the air. She shouted, he rolled effortlessly to his one knee, and caught her as she fell. Impressed, she stared at him from the cradle of his arms as he instructed, "Ideally, you'd keep the movement going and throw him out the window behind us. It's all you can do when you're smaller, lighter, and weaker. You have to use his girth against him."

Rebecca nodded, entranced a little. He rolled her to her feet and rose. Rebecca rose beside him and he warned, "If he corners you, if you feel like there's no option...kick him right in the fucking balls."

She couldn't stop the laugh, "You're assuming he has any."

Impressed by the stab at humor, Leon winked at her, "That's true. After the roids, he might not even have a dick anymore either."

Rebecca giggled and had his brows arching as he mused, "There we go. That's good. Laughter makes this easier."

Nothing made it easier. She was running for her life over a fucking suitcase. She wasn't sure easier was even in the vocabulary. She leaned on the wall and sighed.

Leon finally shed his jacket and hung it on the back of a chair. The second his back was to her, she saw the red stain on his shirt. With a gasp, she told him, "...oh my god!"

He glanced over his shoulder and she accused, "You got shot!?"

Surprised, he shrugged, "...looks like it. It's fine."

Rebecca clicked her tongue and instructed, "Don't be stupid! Sit down."

He didn't smile at her as she clucked around him like a mother hen. He just shed his shirt when she asked and sat in the chair while she went about treating his wound. He'd forgotten she was a medic by trade. She informed him, "It winged you. Why didn't you say anything!?"

"...I've been shot before, Rebecca. I can handle it."

She stood for a moment in awe of his back. He was so beautiful in a storybook hero kind of way. It was hard to imagine what was beneath the pretty jacket he'd been wearing.

His back was a mess of scars. One swathed from left shoulder to the top of his right hip. It looked like a massive claw mark. The tissue was lumped, whitened, but evident. He had a smattering of scars across the left side of his ribcage that spoke of scatter shot. There was pebbling along his collarbone that caught her attention for long enough that he finally told her, quietly, "...shock rod."

Jesus.

Her gaze snapped to his. He smiled lightly but his voice was cool in a way she hadn't heard from him, "The job takes chunks of you. Surviving can hurt."

She shook her head and murmured gently, "...so much pain."

"...pain can be controlled. You just...disconnect it."

Her thumb brushed one of the marks on his ribs as he informed her, "Buck shot. The vest got most of it."

Rebecca lifted her gaze to his again, "...why do you do it?"

His head tilted, "Because plenty of people can't. I have to try to save them. Otherwise...who would?"

He was so selfless. Her heart knocked a little. She shook her chin and whispered, "...it's gonna get you killed."

"...some things are worth dying for."

Oof. She was afraid she was getting feelings for him. Made sense, given their situation, to develop a crush on her savior...but it was stupid. This was the type of guy who generally over looked her in high school. He wasn't going to bother with her now either.

It was time to focus on treating the wounds he'd gotten protecting her.

"This could have gotten infected, Leon. You should know better."

His mouth twitched with good humor, "Thanks, Mom."

Rebecca shook her head, silently admonishing him. She laid a piece of cloth against the wound and taped it in place. He watched her, curious about the concern on her. She was a sweet girl, a little shy, seemingly kind of introverted. She was also trying like hell to be brave. He was sorry for the mess she was in. He knew she blamed herself, but it wasn't her fault.

Whatever was in that case was worth killing for. They needed to find the answers. It was time to try to open it.

He instructed, "Get the case."

Her fingers lingered against his muscled shoulder. He watched her cheeks pinken and was flattered. He couldn't blame her. Hero worship was a real thing. He knew she was just seeing him through the rose colored glasses of someone who'd been saved.

Quietly, he tried again, "Rebecca, sweetheart? Get the case."

"..uh-hah. Right. Right." She tithered away and grabbed the case from the floor.

They spent twenty minutes trying to break into it without luck. Apparently, she wasn't seeing those contents without the key. He was hoping they had the time to find it.

* * *

For three days and nights, they hid out in the cabin planning a trap. The closeness was kind of intoxicating for Rebecca. She enjoyed his company. He was so laid back, when he should have been uptight and on edge.

She knew it was all for her benefit of course. He just didn't want her to panic. However, the panic seemed lost as the hours rolled on in relative safety. She wanted to see if he'd let her get close while he was explaining about the flight or fight response one afternoon.

She shifted over the couch and put her hand on his knee.

He nodded and told her, "Exactly. The knees are essential. If you aim for them, you can take down a bigger opponent and give yourself an advantage."

Rebecca, shivering slightly with nerves, encouraged, "...and what about..." Her hand trailed up his thigh.

She saw the moment it struck. He cleared his throat and rose. She felt the first spark of shame as he told her, "The groin is your greatest defense against a male attacker. Don't worry about being considered weak - aim for the balls."

He was giving her an out. Appreciative, Rebecca nodded and rose from the couch. "Right. The balls...got it."

She left the room and hid in the bathroom for a moment. What was she doing here? She was trying to stay alive. Flirtation had no place amid that kind of moment. Who did she think she was? Ada Wong?

Leon Kennedy had a specific type. She knew that. Hell, everyone knew that. She needed to focus on what mattered here. That case was going to get her killed. It was going to get Leon killed too unless she stopped trying to grope him.

He was trying to pick the lock on the case again when she simply said, "...where the music stops."

Surprised, he met her eyes.

"It's crazy but I dreamed it. I dreamed I'd find the answers where the music stops. Any idea what that means?"

"...riddles. Are we surprised? Umbrella shit is always stupid puzzles. A dream? How sure can we be that it's real?"

She sighed, "I feel pretty confident about it. The man...who gave me the case was saying something when he died. I think he was going to say where the music stops. I don't know how I know that it's right...I just know it _feels _right...which sounds crazy, right?"

"...I don't know about crazy. You're the scientist."

"...yeah. Crazy. It's a fact." She laughed lightly, "...but..."

Rebecca leaned down and studied the case. It seemed so simple. How could it possibly contain anything worth dying for? She poked it with a finger. Leon arched a brow and she tried a different method.

She sang, off key, "Open sessssammmeee..."

His whole face lit up with good humor.

She flushed and shrugged, "Seemed worth a shot."

She felt him looking at her and glanced over. After a long moment, she finally muttered, "...what? I got a bat in the cave?"

Amused, he shook his head and turned away from her. "Time to call Quint and see if there's anything on the intel front."

_Right. No time for flirting. Get it together, B, you're losing it. _

* * *

_The glasses reflected her face back at her. He leaned over, studying her where she lay. His voice was familiar but so cold. "It's a girl."_

_The soft voice echoed, "...yes. She's yours."_

_"...you gave me a girl."_

_The silence stretched until he finally sighed, "...I don't want her."_

_She heard the crying. She heard the fighting. She heard the echo of his leaving. She was a baby? How could she remember being a baby? Her mother leaned over the crib and carried her free. She rocked where she stood._

_The humming started. It was soft and pretty. It was such a lovely tune...so familiar...and then? It stopped._

_And she finally understood._

* * *

Rebecca gasped, waking up on the couch with a jerk. She leaped to her feet and crossed the dark cabin. Her hands grabbed the case.

She put her mouth against the lock and simply...hummed.

The music was something she'd grown up hearing. It was her mother's melody...but it wasn't. It was _his. _How? How was Captain Wesker in her dream? How did she remember him?

How did she know that song was his?

The case beeped. It made a humming sound of gears turning. She set it on the table as the top popped. Inside, a single envelope waited. She lifted it into her hands. They trembled as she opened the little flap.

Behind her, Leon's voice was tired, "...What is it? Rebecca?"

"...the music stopped."

She heard him coming toward her quickly now as the first photograph spilled out of the envelope. It was a mound? It looked like a mound in black and white. She tilted her head at it.

The second photograph was a talisman? A symbol? A goat and a lion and a serpent locked together in mortal combat. Rebecca glanced at Leon in surprise. He shrugged lightly. "Nothing familiar?"

She shook her head, "...what is this?"

He narrowed his eyes and mused, "A burial mound of some kind?"

"...but where?"

Leon took the picture of the symbol and speculated, "Let's get in touch with Q and see if we can find out."

Disappointed, she sank into a chair at the table. She'd been hoping that...what? That the answers would just fall onto the table and make it all worthwhile? What did Wesker have to do with it?

Why were there two pictures and twenty four blank pages in the case?

Would they find the answers in the burial mound?

She put her face in her hands and inhaled a hard breath. The questions were worse than the answers. The answers were more riddles. She felt like she was in a bad movie.

She was no Sarah Conner. She couldn't pick up a shotgun and change the world. She was just a lab mouse. She'd barely survived S.T.A.R.S. What chance did she have to survive any of this?

As if he'd read her mind, Leon mused, "This isn't your fault."

She felt a small urge to cry as she answered, "...why is Albert Wesker in my dreams? He's my father, right?"

Leon said nothing.

She laughed with the horror of it, "Yeah. That's what we're saying. I'm his daughter. That's why he brought me into S.T.A.R.S. That's why Chris found my picture from highschool in his desk. That's why I'm dreaming of him. He's my goddamn father."

She put her face in her hands and tried to hold back the tears. This is how bad her life was now. Her sweet father she'd grown up loving? He was a fake. Her life was a fake. She was the daughter of a madman.

He'd left a legacy of horror in her lap.

She was Rosemary's baby.

She whimpered sadly. She knew Claire wouldn't cry. She knew Jill wouldn't cry. She knew she was weak for it. She knew it wasn't very Sarah Conner to do it, but she whispered, "...I didn't ask for this _honor...and I don't want it!"_

She felt her hands tugged from her face. Surprised, it calmed the tears as he told her, "Want it or not, it's yours. It doesn't have to define you. It's just DNA, not the end of the world."

Jesus. Her heart hurt. She told him, voice breaking, "...why can't I just be...normal?"

He was crouched down and so close. She felt him shift closer and simply leaned forward until he was holding her. It was a good feeling, even though she knew it was anti-feminist as it came...to enjoy being held and comforted. Hell, she wasn't a hero. She could afford to let him cover her in the lie of safety. It was harmless to pretend he'd fix it all.

She shifted her face and kissed the place behind his left ear. He went very still. She told him, tears leaking on his neck, "...sorry...I'm really glad you're here."

He turned his head, so very slowly. Their foreheads touched. Rebecca felt the tears seize up with the shock of the moment. She let it take away a little of the pain to lean in and press her lips to his.

Soft. Smooth. Simple.

He didn't stop her. He didn't encourage her either. He just waited. She leaned back and whispered, "...thanks...sorry."

"...why? I'm not." Quiet. His voice was soothing somehow. She started to maybe lean in again and his phone jingled.

He rose, leaving her to the chair to shiver. He lifted the phone and Q's voice told him, "Good news, Double Oh-Seven...the money man? Excella Gionne in a little place called Mauti Kifo...that's in the great sovereign state of Africa. Better pack a bag and rent a camel...you're about to take a trip."

Africa?

Leon glanced at her. Rebecca looked over at the table. African burial mound? Was it that simple? Were all the answers in Mauti Kifo?

They held gazes and she started to speak when the sound of tires on gravel had them both freezing. Terrified, she whispered, "...Leon?"

He breathed, softly, "...did you call someone, Rebecca?"

She shook her head no. Quint's voice filled the silence, "...she didn't have to...I'm betting that fucking case has a tracker on it."

Maybe not the case. Maybe the goddamn bullet they'd pulled from his side though. Rebecca leaped to her feet as the voice called, "...little pigs, little pigs...let me the _fuck _in."

They'd never make it to Africa. They'd never make it...unless they found a way to stop a terminator. It was time to make a stand.

There was nowhere left to run.


End file.
